


A Guardos Chrimbus (or, Life Day's Eve)

by LeftHandMan



Category: Guardians of the Elements
Genre: Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, Gen, Happy Life Day, M/M, this shit is fucking GAY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 15:31:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13126605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeftHandMan/pseuds/LeftHandMan
Summary: This is a small collection of Christmas-themed Guardians stories I've been working on for a lil bit. Hope you enjoy, and have a happy Life Day!





	1. Ajay and Ian- Don We Now

Today was Christmas Eve, 2017. Ian and I were wrapped around each other, sitting on a couch before a fireplace in his home, covered in a weighty blanket. The television was playing quietly, some Christmas special I didn't bother to recognize.

Ian was behind me, his arms curled around my chest. “You know,” he said, “I don't think I've ever really watched a whole Christmas special.”

“Really?” I asked, “How does that happen?”

“Well,” he replied, “I’m half Jewish, is the main thing.”

I chuckled. “What's your other half think of Christmas, then?”

“I dunno,” he said, “what do you think of Christmas?”

I laughed again. “It's all good with me,” I answered. “Hey, is there anything you want me to get for you? Drink, food, present I’ve been meaning to bring up?”

He smiled again. “A present would be nice,” he answered, “but some hot chocolate wouldn't go to waste.”

I slipped out of his grasp, and stood up. “You stay there, I'll be back in a moment.” I trotted off to my room, and shuffled through my closet for the gift I had gotten him.

I pulled out the small package, wrapped in candy-cane wrapping paper. I also grabbed a mug of hot chocolate that I had left there, in the hopes that he might ask for it. I came out with the gift and the mug, and offered him a choice.

“Which first?” I proposed. He gazed at them excitedly, and pointed eagerly to the wrapped present. I handed it to him, and he very quickly tore the wrapping off.

He gasped in awe. “No…!”

I smiled again. “Yes.”

He held up the case of The Last Jedi, with the proper artwork and everything. “How the hell did you get this?! It's barely been in theatres for a week!”

“I did a few favours for Solomon,” I explained, “and he did some for me. I hope you like it, man.”

He got up to hug me. “I love it, dude!” He eagerly hopped over to the television, and put the disc into the player. He came back to join me under the blanket, and I handed him the mug.

“Oh, hold on,” I paused him, “gotta get this warmed up.” I took the mug back, and heated it in my hands. I waited a moment for it to cool, then handed it back to Ian.

He took a sip, and purred happily. “Thanks, man.”

“No problem,” I responded. A few short menus later, the familiar theme played over the television's speakers, and we were cuddled up again.

“Oh,” he remembered, “I got something for you, too!” He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a necklace. At the center of it, an orange gemstone glowed in the light.

“What's this?” I asked.

“Fire opal,” he responded, “thought it would be thematically appropriate.”

I nuzzled into him, and thanked him, saying, “It's beautiful, thank you so much.”

“No problem,” he told me.

Ian turned his gaze to the fireplace, and mused, “Why do we have an electric fireplace on, when you can just make fire happen?”

“Because I am unskilled, and unable to control my powers that well?” I said, somewhat jokingly.

“That's fair,” he said, getting yet closer to me. He laid his head on mine, and I could hear the blood rushing around, as his heartbeat resounded in my ear.

I nudged him softly, and stuck my hand out of the blanket. A small fire danced between my fingertips, and I could feel his face forming a wide smile.

He stuck his own hand out, and a purple, ethereal glow grew from his palm. He put his hand in mine, and the purple glow crept up my hand, quietly melting into the flame.

“I love you,” I told him.

“I love you too,” he responded. This was a good feeling. Now, on Christmas Eve, with no extraterrestrial threat stalking us overhead, in the embrace of his arms, I felt peace. I was most glad, 

out of everything, that he and Christmas had been saved.

Wait...

Oh, son of a bitch, I think I just saved Christmas.


	2. Lena- And In Case You Didn't Hear

I ran through the streets, nimbly evading cop cars. Fuck, I was good. With a sack of stolen goods slung over my back, hey, I was Saint-fuckin’-Nicholas over here!

The police fired shots from their cars at me, but those dumb bastards couldn't shoot for shit. I fired back, taking out each and every tire on that publicly-funded hunk of shit. “MERRY FUCKIN’ HANUKKAH, ASSHOLES!” I screamed at them.

I swept around a corner into an alley, and observed my loot. Ten stolen purses, food for a week, and a partridge straight outta the fuckin’ tree. Dumbass little bird was a tight grab, but squeezin’ the life outta the fucker was one of the best times I’d had in a week.

I pulled out a purse, and tossed it in front of me. I switched my arm into RPG mode, and blasted the fuckin’ thing every way to Christmas Sunday.

I hooted in laughter as it exploded into colourful pieces, and makeup dust went everywhere. I rummaged through another purse, stripped it of bills, and gave it the Hiroshima treatment, too. It was good to be me.

I bit into a stolen pack of raw steaks, and chewed on the uncooked meat. Tender as it fuckin’ gets.

I heard someone out on the street, screaming for help. Pfft, what a pissass, can't even kill them before they scream. Amateur.

Someone came running down the alley, rushing to hide behind me. She cowered in back, trying to find some shelter.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked, still working through the steak.

“Don't let them know I'm here!” she told me.

“I'll let em know if I wanna, bitch,” I snapped.

Another person came down. Great, just what I always wanted. She was burly, and dressed in tight leather. A sneer was drawn on her face, and something shiny dangled from her hand. “Where is she?” she asked.

“Back there,” I ratted her out, “what the hell’s it to ya?”

She ignored me, and pushed on past. She pulled the other girl out of her hiding place, and the other girl squirmed to get away. “Please, I-” 

“You’re mine, bitch,” the girl in black said, pulling up the dangling shiny, “and I’m gonna get what I want.”

I rolled my eyes. Not this bullshit again. I stood up, and aimed my arm-gun at the leather girl. “Listen, dipshit,” I said to her, “let the lady go, or I blast your fuckin’ head off, deal?”

She pulled back, but turned her gaze to me. “I said, I'm gonna get, what I w-”

I grabbed her by the throat, clenching tightly. “Pull that shit again,” I told her, “and I break out the fucking brand.”

I threw her to the ground, and the little coward ran away. Shame, I wanted to carve somethin’ into ‘er. As long and detailed as possible, I'd say. Just for good measure, I shot the dumb bitch in the leg, and the shoulder. “AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR!” I shouted at her, as she stumbled off into the night.

The girl in the back came up behind me. “Thank you,” she said simply.

“It weren't nothin’,” I told her, “one girl’s attacker is another girl's cannon fodder, I say. Hey,” I tossed her a purse and a steak, “for your troubles.”

She took the gifts, a little confused about 'em, though, and hurried off to wherever the hell. Lastly, I shouted to her, “MERRY KWANZAA TO YOU, TOO!”

This was one hell of a night, and I loved every bone-crackin’ second of it. Couldn't wait to greet the cold, freezing morning. Hey, that's the way I like it.


	3. Alex- Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot

I wandered around town, eyeing the shop windows as they shut down for the night. It was sort of a pilgrimage I went on, every Christmas Eve; taking a look at the stores and bright lights, for the last time of the year they could truly be displayed in earnest.

I stopped by a flower shop, which was closing for the night. I passed the threshold, and the elderly woman behind the counter greeted me.

“Ah, Alex!” she greeted me, “I was wondering when you'd get here.”

“Hey, Iris,” I greeted her back, “still got the usual flowers, yeah?”

“Yes, indeed,” she said cheerfully, plucking a bouquet from the back, “same as always!”

She handed me the poinsettias, and I took them into the crook of my arm. “Same price?” I asked.

“As always,” she answered. I pulled the paltry five-dollar bill from my pocket, and she gave me a few dimes back.

“See you next year,” I told her, waving goodbye.

“You too, Alex!” she said. I stepped out into the cold again, and the lights of the flower shop went out.

I meandered around town for a while slowly making my way to my destination.

The wreaths on the lampposts were pretty, sure, but the storefronts were still my favourite. My mother used to work freelance, painting store windows with intricate designs. She did the most and best of her work around Christmas, so I rarely got to see her then.

But, every Christmas morning, she would be eagerly pulling at the presents, either to give to us or to unwrap for herself.

I walked up to the gates of the graveyard, and pulled the doors open. It was quiet, which was somewhat unusual for Christmas Eve. The Titanic Graveyard, as it was known, wasn't just for the poor people killed when the ship sank. There were a few plots reserved for the people who died in other unfortunate circumstances.

I knelt down at one grave, which I had always gone to visit around this time of year. I unwrapped the poinsettias, and let them fall to the ground.

I didn't need to read the gravestone to know what it said.  _ Maria Corona, 1972-2007. _

“Merry Christmas, mom,” I said. I wiped the snow off of it, and began the long trek back home.

Some quiet tears fell from my eyes, but I wiped them away. “Merry Christmas.”


	4. Solomon- Every One

Christmas has always been an interesting case to me. I shouldn’t spoil whether or not its subject was real, or whether or not I was there, but I will say that everything that has spawned from it has become of it at least has some charm to it.

The commercial festivities highlight both the best and worst of human capitalistic endeavors. Companies may serve to earn, and consumers to lose, but the practice of giving gifts truly gives me encouragement, and hope that humans can be kinder than they seem.

The cash-grabbing nature of media around this time does become excessive, but it certainly serves to bring people together to either make of fun of a work, or join in enjoying it. Christmas, it seems, is inherently paradoxical.

The pantheon of fictional characters becoming a staple of many people’s lives, independent on their religious status, race, religion, and even age. Though it might not be a cinematic masterpiece, you’d be pressed to find someone who has not even peripherally heard of a reindeer with a very peculiar nose, or a snowman whose name is very blatantly literal.

Nevertheless, I sat in my house, encased in holiday decor. I had with me an Advent wreath, a Hanukkah menorah, a Kwanzaa kinara, and, for some reason unkowable to me, a Festivus pole. I refused to put up a tree, due to the inherent dangers of it becoming a plume of flame, and severely inconveniencing me by burning my house down.

I sat on my couch, quietly observing my television, as holiday classics crossed the screen. I dearly wished for some diversity, maybe something at least related to Hanukkah, but I accepted the hand I was dealt.

Sipping my cup of chocolate tea, I watched the clunkily animated features that I had seen since their first airings, and took in my surroundings. There were a lot of candles, but more importantly, they all radiated warmth.

I got up, and stared out the window, observing people enjoying their festivities on the street. The limited rainbow of lights made this snowless evening seem peaceful, and quiet. I truly was thankful that I had helped shape these people. 

“Alpha bless you,” I spoke, “every one. Heaven knows you need it.”


End file.
